


Memories Disappear Beneath The Stains of Time

by UselessLesbianLaughter



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst with a happy ending?, Engaged!Swanqueen, Engagement, F/F, Marriage, Married!Swanqueen, Memory Loss, One Shot, SQ - Freeform, Swan-Mills Family, Swen - Freeform, Wedding, car crash, swanqueen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 03:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15258084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UselessLesbianLaughter/pseuds/UselessLesbianLaughter
Summary: A tragic car crash results in Emma losing her memory. She and Regina learn to navigate that through her recovery. Happy ending.





	Memories Disappear Beneath The Stains of Time

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested in a Facebook group, it's a bit late but I did my best.

 “What’s your name?”

 “I don’t know.”

 “What year is it?”

 The wheels under the stretcher were creaking. Emma registered her surroundings immediately, it was a hospital. Several nurses were surrounding her, one asking her questions. They were going somewhere. She didn’t remember why she was there or how she got there. She just knew she was at a hospital.

 “I don’t know.”

 The stretcher stopped, she found herself in an operating room. That was her best guess. It was almost funny. She knew what an operating room was but she didn’t know why she was at a hospital.

 “Can you tell me where you are?”                                                                    

 “A hospital.”

 “Which city? State? Country?”

 Too many questions in a row.

 “I don’t know.”

 The questions died down then, as did everything else. She woke up in a different room. It was brighter, white walls, far emptier. Her eyes fluttered open, disturbed by the beeping of the monitor standing next to her. She was alone but not for long. A nurse walked in, greeting her with a smile.

 “How are you feeling?” the nurse asked.

 “Okay,” Emma replied.

 “Can you tell me your name?”

 She tried to. She knew what a name was, she had to know hers.

 “I’m sorry, I don’t know.”

 The nurse nodded, writing something down on her notepad.

 “Do you know what year it is?”

 She didn’t. Frankly, she didn’t really care for what year it was.

 “Not really.”

 “Do you know who the president is?”

 “No. What happened?” The only burning question on her mind ever since she woke up on that stretcher.

 “You had a concussion and some internal injuries. It seems that you’ve lost some, if not all, of your memories. You have amnesia. We’ve contacted your family. They’ll get here soon. You arrived with a woman, she says she’s your fiancée. She’s been waiting for you to wake up. Would you like to see her?”

 “I’m engaged?” Emma was puzzled, pleasantly surprised. She didn’t remember getting engaged.

 “Yes. Would you like to see her?” the nurse asked again.

 “Sure, why not,” Emma replied.

 “I’ll tell her to come,” the nurse said and with that, walked out of the room. Only seconds later, a brunette woman walked through the doors. She was wearing a wine red blouse, there was a scar on her upper lip. Emma was immediately attracted to her.

 “You’re my fiancée?”

 The look the woman gave her was both sad and happy, bittersweet.

 “Yes, Emma, I’m your fiancée. We’ve been together for four years now.”

 “Lucky me,” Emma said with a crooked smile.

 “We have a son together, Henry.”

 “What’s your name?” Emma asked. That broke something in the woman’s eyes but she concealed it immediately with a reassuring smile.

 “Regina. Regina Swan-Mills.”

 “And I’m Emma? Swan-Mills?”

 Regina nodded.

 “Do you remember anything at all?”

 She wanted to remember. She could tell the woman wanted her to remember. Emma Swan-Mills was loved, she could tell. But she didn’t. Her mind was blank and, not knowing what was missing, she didn’t even know where to start searching. She didn’t remember being called Emma ever before. Then again, she didn’t remember being called any other name either.

 “I remember waking up here. The nurses, questions,” she said. It wasn’t enough, she could tell from the woman’s eyes. She didn’t recognize this Regina but she liked her.

 “And nothing before that?”

 “Uh,” she hummed for a while, brow furrowed, eyes fixated on the floor.

 “It’s okay. Take your time. How about what language you’re speaking? Do you remember that?”

 The question was ridiculously simple. Emma opened her mouth to reply enthusiastically, ready to laugh, only to realize she didn’t know the answer. With great disappointment, she shut her mouth and stared at the white wall for a while, a grim expression on her face. Then, she smiled.

 “What’s so funny?” Regina asked.

 “It’s just weird. I know what a language is, and I’m speaking one, and I don’t remember which one it is. What country is this?”

 “United States of America.”

 “English. I’m speaking English. That, or Spanish.”

 Regina laughed but it was bittersweet. She smiled, sad eyes, took Emma’s hand. That surprised her but she didn’t mind. Regina’s hand was soft and warm. Comforting.

 “English,” she said.

 “What happened to your face?” Emma asked, noticing the stitches on Regina’s forehead.

 “I was in the car with you.”

 “Which car?”

 “Yours. The yellow bug, the one I hate. But you, you like yellow. You’re here because we were in a car crash. We were driving to our rehearsal dinner.”

 “Our wedding’s today?”

 “It was going to be,” Regina broke her sentences apart with a sad smile, “it was raining last night, getting dark. A truck was coming towards us, the driver lost control of the vehicle. We saw it too late, you tried to swerve out of the way. It was too late to avoid collision but you probably saved my life. It crashed into the driver’s seat,” her eyes were watering but she wouldn’t allow the tears to fall, “I thought you were dead.”

 “I’m sorry,” Emma didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t remember any of what Regina had just said but she saw the trauma reflecting in the woman’s eyes.

 “Don’t be.”

 Silence pooled into the room, flooding, filling the cracks in the walls, seeping out through the windows. It had a strict rule, a peaceful one. They stayed frozen for a while, looking at each other. Finally, Emma spoke up, voice unusually soft.

 “Tell me about our life.”

 Regina smiled.

 “When you first came to Storybrooke, we hated each other,” her voice carried an intense note of nostalgia, she paused for a moment, “And we fought. Boy, did we ever fight. I was Henry’s mother but you said you were,” she paused again, licked her lips, “I tried to kill you once or twice. But, you, you found another way. We were both his moms. You’re his birthmother,” she explained, “Anyway, we fell in love. It was unexpected. Completely unplanned. At first, it was just sex. Angry, great sex,” they both laughed, “but we fought together. We raised our son together. We did a lot together. You almost married someone else. One night, you left him and showed up at my doorstep. And you told me you loved me. We’ve been together ever since. We’ve had our ups and downs. Last year, we got engaged.”

 Perhaps she had more to say. But she couldn’t because a nurse walked in to check on Emma, the same one from before.

 “How are you feeling?” the nurse asked again.

 “Better,” Emma replied.

 “Can you tell me your name?”

 “Emma.”

 “That’s good. Can you tell me where you are?”

 “The United States of America.”

 “Can you be more specific?”

 “No, I can’t. I’m cheating, she told me the answers,” Emma laughed, “Oh, but I did actually remember who the president is!”

 Both the nurse and Regina looked at her expectantly.

 “George Washington,” Emma said with complete confidence she was right.

 The nurse gave Regina a solemn look.

 “That’s not the right answer, is it?”

 “No, dear, it’s not,” Regina replied. Emma hung her head.

 “Don’t worry. It’ll come to me eventually,” she smiled. Regina nodded, smiling, hand still in Emma’s. It was the same look she’d give Henry when he was young and asked about a dead pet.

 “Your parents are here. Would you like to see them?”

 “Yeah, okay,” Emma nodded.

 “I’ll let them know,” the nurse turned around.

 “Wait. What about my son?” Emma asked.

 “Henry’s coming, dear. It’s a long drive,” Regina answered for her.

 “Drive? How old is he?”

 “Twenty,” Regina said, tight-lipped.

 The nurse took that as her cue to leave the room. Not long after, Mary Margaret and David walked in.

 “Emma! How are you feeling?” the woman immediately asked. Emma didn’t know if she was supposed to recognize her. Was that really her mother? How could she forget her own mother? Out of nowhere, she laughed under her breath.

 “I’m sorry,” she said after receiving a roomful of strange looks, “it’s just funny to think that I know exactly what a mother is but I don’t remember my own mother.”

 The woman almost teared up at that and Emma immediately felt bad for saying anything. She tried to redeem herself by saying she was feeling okay, much better than before. That settled the room for a while.

 “Do you remember anything at all?” the man asked.

 “Regina already asked. I wish I could say I do but I’m drawing a complete blank. I’m meeting all of you for the first time,” Emma answered.

 “You really don’t remember us at all? Emma, I’m your mother, Mary Margaret.”

 Emma shrugged, pressing her lips together.

 “Nice to meet you,” her head tilted to the side when she said it, like a puppy.

 

 It took two weeks for Emma to be released from the hospital. Two weeks of healing, her physical recovery still incomplete. She couldn’t wait to get out and would frequently joke about breaking out. That’s when Regina realized she hadn’t lost the woman she loved, it was the other way around. She’d lost herself, and Regina along with herself.

 She remembered who the president was- exclaimed her brand new discovery proudly and five seconds later, became incredibly disappointed and had a lot of questions. She remembered the year, the season, never remembered the date, looked it up. Regina was hopeful. It wasn’t like the old Emma had kept close track of the date or time.

 Her family surrounded her at the hospital. She got to know them, heard stories. But none of them, she remembered. Regina was always there. Sometimes they held hands.

 She learned that she’d had her memory erased before and about the existence of magic. Still, she didn’t remember anything. Not coming to Storybrooke, not meeting her son, not the battles, not getting engaged, nothing.

 It didn’t dawn on her until her release date that she absolutely did not remember her old home.

 “It’s going to be okay, I promise. It’s a very nice place,” Regina assured her in the car.

 “Are you just saying that because it used to be yours?” Emma laughed.

 Regina pulled up at the driveway.

 “Did you just say it used to be mine?”

 “Yeah, why?”

 “Did Henry tell you that?”

 Emma shrugged, “I don’t know, I guess he did. How else would I know?”

 “Huh,” Regina stared out the window for a while, “alright,” she said, eventually, opening the door and stepping outside. “Home sweet home.”

 Emma looked the mansion up and down. It was a very nice place indeed. She wouldn’t mind living there at all.

 “Don’t worry, there’s a guest bedroom. I’ll sleep there, you can take the master bedroom,” Regina said.

 “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

 “It’s fine, Emma.”

 “I mean, we are engaged. We can share a bed,” Emma smiled.

 “Except you don’t remember me or getting engaged,” Regina’s voice was cold and hard, Mayor Mills cold and hard.

 “Oh…”

 “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

 “No, it’s fine. I’ll take the guest bedroom. The master bedroom is yours. At least you actually remember it.”

 It was a warm and bright day outside but the air between the two turned crisp and cold. They walked inside in complete silence, Regina announced she was going to cook dinner and Emma went to do what she did best these days- wandering aimlessly.

She slept in the guest bedroom that night, for a solid two hours. Regina, alone in their bed, didn’t sleep much more.

 They fell into an easy pattern. Emma wasn’t cleared to work yet so she spent most days wandering around the mansion. Sometimes Henry would visit, or her parents. Sometimes other people came, too, but she didn’t remember any of them and conversations with them always ended up underwhelming. Often, she’d just lay on the guest bed and stare at the ceiling. Regina worked the days away. Emma wasn’t sure what she was working on, she didn’t say anything. Tight-lipped nothing-saying responses became a pattern.

 Two weeks, precisely two weeks, after moving back home, Emma was having dinner with Regina until the woman announced she would make dessert. An apple pie.

 The scent was strong and appealing. Emma imagined the whole block lining up for that smell.

 Regina served it with a smile. She took a bite.

 It was like breaking down a door to a vast universe, full of everything that made up a person. Something already slipped through, Emma’s eyes glistened.

 “Why haven’t we gone to Granny’s in so long?” she asked.

 “Did Henry tell you about that place?”

 “No,” Emma shook her head. “No, he didn’t. Why did no one tell me about Granny’s? I love her grilled cheese. But I know it gets to you,” she cut another piece of the apple pie.

 “Emma, did you just remember Granny’s?”

 Emma looked up from her plate, “yeah, I guess I did. We spent our first anniversary there,” she giggled, “you were so pissed off. You’d made all these plans and then that storm hit and our flight canceled and we were completely stranded. I still loved it. How could I forget?”

 Regina stared at her in awe.

 “What else do you remember?”

 “I don’t know. Not much. I remember how you tried to kill me.”

 “I’m sorry about that,” Regina said with remorse.

 “I don’t remember forgiving you but I guess I must have,” she flashed the engagement ring on her finger with a small smile.

 “Anything else?”

 “Not really. The rest is still blank,” Emma shrugged, “can I sleep with you tonight?”

 “Are you sure?” Regina was taken aback by the request. Especially because of the way it was formatted, a request.

 “Yeah,” her voice dropped a few octaves, became more hushed, “I haven’t been able to sleep alone.”

 “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

 “Are you sure? Ever since I got released you’ve been treating me like a stranger,” Emma let out a nervous laugh, “shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

 “I’m sorry you’re feeling that way. It’s just not easy, Emma. For anyone. We can sleep in the same bed tonight… if that’s what you want.”

 They finished the apple pie in silence. Emma didn’t remember anything else. The door had opened to let a few memories pass and shut again. Despite the atmosphere being solemn, Emma was celebrating a victory. She hated being alone with her thoughts, in the dead of the night, everything hit at once. When she first woke up, she had no idea what was missing. Now she knew. She was supposed to remember. Her whole life, all these people. And she didn’t. She was breaking everyone around her, hurting everyone and she didn’t know how to stop it. She repeated all the stories she heard back to herself, muttering, whispering, hoping to remember something after hearing the words in a certain string enough times, a futile effort, every night the same drill, every night, to no use.

 She hated the broken looks people gave her, especially Regina. The woman had completely detached, buried herself in work, hid herself away. The Regina at Granny’s three years ago she now remembered had not been like that. At some point, they’d put their walls down and stopped being cold. And now all that was gone. Back to square one with no idea where to start.

 That night, she crawled into bed next to Regina. Regina wore a negligee to bed, Emma wore pajamas. It felt oddly natural. Not familiar, natural. Meant to be.

 “Goodnight, Emma,” Regina said after turning the bedside light off.

 “Goodnight.”

 It was impulsive. It was stupid. It was reckless.

 It was as very Emma Swan.

 She rolled over, towering over Regina. The curtains were half-open, a full moon lit up the streets for pedestrians and the bedroom just enough for Emma to look in her eyes, biting her lip, still considering. She cupped her cheek and leaned in, closing her eyes. Her lips parted and they kissed. It was intense, passion pulsating in the air, and soft, sweet, not short of sad. It was coming home after a long trip.

 They locked lips.

  _“But maybe I need you.”_

Regina’s lips brushed against her cheek.

  _“I made you a promise I intend to keep. Everyone deserves their happy ending.”_

Emma trailed kisses down her neck.

  _“That makes us unique, or maybe even special.”_

She paused for a breath. Her hand slipped under Regina’s head.

_“You may not be strong enough. But maybe we are.”_

Their lips collided again. Emma was devouring the flood of memories that rushed to her brain with each touch. She’d been starving for so long.

  _“There has to be another way!” “There isn’t!”_

She remembered their first kiss, their engagement, the first time she came to Storybrooke. She remembered hate and she remembered love, so much pain, and so much happiness. Everything was overflowing and she couldn’t get enough. She kissed her even more intensely, Regina was water after years of drought, the rain in a desert, and Emma loved her. She loved her. She’d known all along. The first time she said it. The first time Regina said it back. She wanted more.

 Regina broke it off. The flood stopped. The magic faded. Emma wanted it back immediately, needed it.

 “Are you sure?” Regina asked.

 “More than I’ve been of anything in my life. I want to marry you,” Emma said, her words pure euphoria pouring out of her mouth.

 “I don’t want to take advantage of you-”

 “You’re not,” Emma said, resting her head on Regina’s chest and listening to her rapidly beating heart, “I remember. I remember,” she lifted her head to face her again, “I love you so much.”

 “I love you, too.”

 “You were right,” Emma smiled, _“True love is magic.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Feed the feedback vampire. Writers are so desperate. Please leave comments, any kind of feedback, I need it like air.


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